Like Fire and Powder
by MarkusTheBoyWonder
Summary: After being plucked from her family's wealth and swept away to America, Alice finds herself in the shoes of every other rich housewife. This is not how she wants to watch her years go by. But she was a wife and a proper woman who held her responsibilities closer to her heart than her real desires. So when a handsome, daring pilot crash lands in her backyard, will she take his hand?


**Fandom:** Hetalia: Axis Powers

**Word Count: **639

**Summary:** After being plucked from atop her family's wealth and swept off to America, Alice found herself in the shoes of any other rich housewife. Every day had become a predictable routine: wake up, dress, watch over the estate, repeat. It was, to say the least, not how she wanted to spend her life. But she was a wife and a proper woman who held responsibilities closer to herself than her own desires. So when a handsome, daring pilot crash-lands in her back lawn, will she take his hand? Human AU. (Nyo! USA x UK)

**Rating:** K

**A/N: **This is going to be the first thing I am posting here on Fanfiction. It is only a prologue for many chapters to come (that's why it is so short). This was an adventurous idea dreamt up one night whilst talking to a good friend- and loyal role play partner. Thanks to her beautiful character portrayal, I doubt I would have been able to get a sturdy grip on Alice's reigns. This is a Human AU, meaning that I am simply only using the character and not the countries. Alice is the name I am going to use for my version of Nyo! UK. Elizabeth and Alexander are my own OC's so I hope I do not confuse anyone with that. The time is the early 1900s.

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The day that I had first laid eyes on her is still burnt on the front of my mind even years later. I can remember it so clearly because I could feel the heat of the sun no matter where I was placed. The blaze easily tore through the heavy layers of petticoats hanging from my waist, singeing my skin beneath my corset and shirt sleeves- which were drawn far past my elbows to my wrists. Not even the cotton layer supporting my dress could ever dream of concealing my perspiration for too long. My face was beginning to turn pink despite the numerous layers of powder I had applied. The sweat puddled along my brow and upper lip was a hopeless cause to solve, as well. It was as if I was stuck inside of a conventional oven, roasting within my parlor with each passing minute.

The only force that had kept my over-heated heart beating was Elizabeth. She was a fairly large woman was pulled her apron a tad too tightly around her stomach. Elizabeth had followed me across the Atlantic Ocean when my husband and I relocated in America to expand his father's business. In spite- and refusal to pay for her ticket for the boat- she left my family's estate to continue caring for me. I expected no less from the woman who more than literally raised my brother and I. She was patting at my face with an iced hand towel as her assistant (Elizabeth was just too old to complete most tasks on her own) fanned my neck and the dips of my collar bone.

"Alice, dear," she began with that loud, rumbling voice of hers. "Shall I take you to your room to add another layer? The last thing I need is to have to scrub the oils from this dress."

The chance that I would be able to get up those flights of stairs was slim to none in this heat. I wanted to do nothing more than to bathe in ice at that moment and rip out of these restricting layers. But I had an image to uphold and a household to watch over. God, so help me if I was found indecently around my husband. Or any of his staff, for that matter.

"Mr. Edelstein will be down soon," I warn her, flicking my wrist in command to increase the speed of the fanning motion.

Elizabeth's thick, meaty fingers pinched my cheek as I said so, shooting a look at me. "You do recall that he has a first name? How long have you been married? Five years?" She replaced the cloth on my face with another dusting of powder. "Stop acting like you had just met him."

The new coat of make-up was caked and packed on my face, drying out the corners of my mouth. I was about to protest on how he treated me no differently, and how we were still nothing more than acquaintances, but was cut off by the sound of light footsteps descending the stairs. My patching frown turned upwards to an indifferent gaze. He took each stair, one by one, with a rather arrogant tempo. Behind him trailed that conniving servant of his, eyeing up my plaster-like complexion with some kind of sick enjoyment.

Our meeting was fleeting, ending as soon as it began, with a simple chaste kiss and a good-bye. My husband, Roderich, flashed me his most charming and tender look before making his way out. Nothing more. It was easy to see the way his mouth dropped once he pulled away towards the door. There was no skill in picking out the negativity in his grin or the stress in his frown lines. His smile was just not the same. Nor was the feeling it used to give me.

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A/N: If there are any spelling or grammar mistakes, please let me know. Would you guys like more of this? Send in a review.


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